


Meeting Once More

by Inkwell1013



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley is a dad, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Strained Relationships, Transphobia, between Warlock and Mr Dowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkwell1013/pseuds/Inkwell1013
Summary: A sixteen year old Warlock stumbles upon Aziraphale’s bookshop and meets Crowley again after five years. But Crowley looks rather different from last time Warlock saw him. The boy connects all the dots, just poorly.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Comments: 10
Kudos: 172





	Meeting Once More

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this tumblr post](https://bramblepatch.tumblr.com/post/623641042659508225/consider-warlock-dowling-as-a-teenager-or-young).

Warlock was loitering about the high street, doing basically nothing. His father had brought him into the city for some ‘father son bonding time’ and had promptly dumped him as soon as there was a minor political emergency. He had promised that he would pick Warlock up by three o’clock but Warlock was not holding his breath. His father had a habit of breaking promises.

Warlock suddenly missed Miss Ashtoreth. She would never dump him like this. Then again, she did abandon him too. He still remembered the day clearly. It had happened exactly one week before his eleventh birthday.

She had woken him up for school and made him breakfast like normal, but something was clearly wrong. Right as she was about to take him to school, she pulled him close.

“I love you kid,” she had said. “And I don’t want to leave, but I have no choice. If you only remember one thing I’ve told you, remember this. Don’t let anyone tell you who you can and can’t be.”

Then she had rustled her hair and driven him to school. He never saw her again after that. When he asked his father about it, he had received no answer.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked down the bustling street. Why was he thinking of Nanny Ashtoreth again? It had been five years; he assumed he was over all that stuff.

At least people in London were nice, he thought. Most of them were smiling and nodding at him as he walked by. He was also pleased at how anonymous he was here. Back in his hometown, everyone knew him as the son of the ambassador. They were never mean – his father was too important and influential for that – but very few people let themselves get too friendly. School sucked because of it.

He didn’t really know where he was going – he was just wandering really – but when he found himself outside a small bookshop street corner he had the strangest feeling that there was something special about it.

So he went inside.

The place was remarkably clean. It looked like someone had gone through the whole place with a duster moments ago. However, there was no owner to be seen. The shelves were stuffed full of neat leather-bound volumes, that looked far to expensive for a sixteen-year-old’s bookshelf. Then again, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money. One of the few perks of having a rich father he smirked. Whilst he was here, he decided to pick up a couple.

While he was browsing, he was startled by the sound of a man’s voice coming from upstairs. “Are you sure it’s not downstairs Angel?” they said. Was it the owner?

“Because I think I saw it in the back room,” said the voice. There was a muffled response before the voice spoke again. “I’ll go check.”

Warlock turned around so he could see the kind of person who would own such a shop. The man did not look how he expected.

He was younger for one. He had bright red hair that was cropped short at the sides and slightly longer on the top. There was something slightly punk about his fashion sense.

And then Warlock recognised him. “Nanny Ashtoreth ?” he stammered.

“Warlock…”

Both stood still, trapped in place by their own shock. The voice from upstairs called again – louder this time and slightly annoyed. “Crowley, have you found it or not?”

Warlock was a little startled, but tried to keep it from showing on his face. Crowley... It was new. He didn’t hate it, but it was new.

But why would Nanny Ashtoreth – Crowley – change their name?

Then it all clicked.

Crowley was trans.

It all made sense now! Even his strange speech the day he left. _Don’t let anyone tell you who you can and can’t be._

Then Warlock realised something else. His father had fired Crowley over it. It didn’t come as a surprise to him really. His father was a bigot of almost every form. Thinking he would fire someone for being trans wasn’t a stretch of the imagination.

Warlock rushed up and threw his arms around Crowley’s shoulders. Crowley returned the gesture and squeezed Warlock so tightly it was like he believed the kid would disappear if he let go.

“You’re all grown up now. I can’t believe it,” mumbled Crowley, stroking Warlock’s hair just how he did when the boy was younger.

Warlock felt as if he was going to cry. He hadn’t felt this loved in years. “I haven’t seen you in so long Nanny!” he said. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too kid. I’m sorry I had to leave but it was out of my control.” Crowley’s voice cracked on the last word, like he was going to cry too.

“It’s okay. I understand why you left. But I’m so glad I came here today and got to see you again.” There was a comfortable silence between them. Warlock felt so safe wrapped up in Crowley’s arms.

A moment later, a white-haired man stomped down the stairs, wearing a dressing gown and fluffy pink slippers. Warlock had the strange feeling that he knew him. Wait a minute…

“Is that you Brother Francis?”

Brother Francis turned bright red, caught in the act.

Warlock quickly glanced between the two, then pointed an accusing finger at Crowley. “I knew you two were fucking!” he exclaimed.


End file.
